Don't Touch That!
by magicsunbeam
Summary: The man has GOT to touch! Siler POV with a touch of Jack whump.


**Don't Touch That! **

**By magicsunbeam**

**Disclaimer: SG1 isn't mine, it belongs to MGM…lucky things.**

**Summary: The man has GOT to touch! Siler POV**

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Don't touch that!`**

**I wish I had a dollar for every time I've said those three little words over the past eight years. You'd think after hearing it *so* many times, a person would learn, wouldn't you? The crazy thing is; the people around here are hugely skilled and extremely highly educated, yet I *still* have to say….**

"**Don't touch that!" **

**General O'Neill whips his hands away from the extremely delicate piece of government equipment, shooting me an indignant look. **

"**Sir," I add as an after thought.**

"**I was just looking," he sulks.**

"**You look with your eyes, not your hands, Jack," Daniel Jackson says without taking his eyes off a similar looking device he's working on.**

**The general pulls a sour face. "That's *General* to you," he pouts.**

**Daniel snorts, but doesn't say anything.**

**With all the grace he can muster, the general slouches over to where the doctor is working and sprawls across the bench with a heavy sigh.**

"**Whatcha doin`?" he asks, his chin in his hand.**

**Daniel closes his eyes and drops his head slightly. "We've been over this, Jack."**

**The general tries to hide a grin, delighted by the obvious frustration he's causing. **

**He loves to torment this poor guy.**

"**I'm *bored*, Daniel," he whines. "You said….."**

**Daniel whips his head up. "I *said* I'll come with you when Siler and I are finished."**

"**Daniel, Siler's a big boy. I'm sure he can work an itty bitty problem out for himself."**

**In that moment, Daniel's eyes fly to meet mine. For a fleeting second there is a look of panic. That is quickly replaced by a look of such desperate pleading, that it's all I can do to stop myself from laughing out loud.**

"**Come on, Daniel! You said you'd watch the game with me. It's not the same watching alone."**

"**Why don't you go ahead? It'd be a shame to miss the start. I could be a while here, isn't that right, Siler?" **

**The pleading has reached his voice now. Poor Daniel.**

"**Er, yes, yes Dr. Jackson. I'm not really getting anywhere with the…. er…"**

"***Doo*hicky," General O'Neill spits, shooting me an evil look. "It's just a walkman, for crying out loud."**

**Crap, he's onto me.**

**He reaches out to pick up the hand sized tape recorder and is rewarded with both myself and Daniel yelling in stereo; **

"**Don't touch that!"**

"***Okay*!" he yells back. "For crying out loud."**

**Ah, double crap. He's mad now. **

**For a second it looks like I'm going to get a chewing out, but my luck (and Daniel's) changes and it looks like he's decided to leave.**

"**Daniel," he pouts, "If you want me……for *anything* at all, I'll be at home, by myself, watching the game. Don't bother calling."**

**With that he turns and heads toward the door.**

**I glance across at the doctor and he locks on me with a grin. We both look over our shoulder at our retreating, sulking general in time to see him reach out to touch the **

**MALP.**

**The damaged MALP that is being super charged. **

**Oh, God!**

"***Don't touch that!*" Daniel and I yell in unison, diving from our chairs.**

**I can practically feel the electricity streaming through the general's body as the charge sends him flying across the room into an unconscious heap.**

**~~~~~~****~~~~~~****~~~~~**

**Dr. Brightman tells me the general will be fine. He received minor burns to his hand, and a slightly more than minor bang to his skull as it connected with the concrete floor. I believe the correct term is `heavy concussion`. **

**The good news is he regained consciousness a while ago, and Daniel and I have decided to visit him in the infirmary together. Safety in numbers, and all that. **

**He's as white as a ghost and seems to be only just with us. His right hand is bandaged, and there's a lovely purple and black bruise running from just above his right eye, up his forehead and into the hairline. Nasty.**

"**Hey, Jack," Daniel greets him softly.**

**His eyes take a couple seconds to focus, but when they do a scowl appears. (Well, it would be a scowl if he was a tad more conscious) **

"**What do you want, Daniel?" he mumbles. "I thought you had something important to do?"**

"**That can wait for a little while," Daniel answers, determined not to feel guilty.**

**I, on the other hand, have my ass to cover.**

"**How are you feeling, general, sir?" I ask.**

**He attempts to fix me with a scowl too, but it's halted by the big band I *know* must be playing in his head.**

"**Peachy, Siler," he whispers. "Here's a question for you though. Why the *hell* is there a live MALP, just begging to be touched, sitting around in the storage room? **

**Do we not have safety protocols on level 24?"**

"**We do, sir. The MALP is inside a cage, sir. Behind bars."**

"**You had to touch, Jack," Daniel states in pitying tones.**

"**There should be a warning posted," the general mumbles, concussion or Doc Brightman's drugs catching him up.**

"**The cage has `Danger` posted all over it, Jack."**

**The general lets out a deep sigh, and allows his eyes to slip shut. He's giving up the argument… for now. **

**Dr. Brightman bustles into room, checks the charts at the end of the general's bed, then turns to Daniel and I.**

"**Visiting hours are over, gentleman," she tells us. "General O'Neill needs to rest."**

"**I'll stop by later to see you, Jack," Daniel promises.**

**The only reply he gets is a soft grunt.**

**We turn and walk away, and as we get to the doorway, Doc Brightman's patient voice floats across the still room.**

"**General, please don't touch that."**

**Fin**


End file.
